The Man In The Park

The Man In The Park

“Shall we meet” he said “I’m sure you’ll like me”.

“What a confidence” I thought, while trying to imagine what he looked like. He sounded nice, I had to give him that. Nice voice. Delicious London Accent. Should I just …

“Ok then. Where do we meet ?”
“Well, let’s meet on Golden Square”.
“What ? Where ? Is that a street?” I had never heard of it.
“Yes it is quite close to Piccadilly Circus, you know, where your cafe is”.
I didn’t remember I had told him all that already.
“Fine. But how do I recognize you ?”
“You’ll recognize me, don’t worry about that”.
“Oh come on. What do you look like ? I am not going to show up and look like a complete idiot looking for someone who eventually could look like my date”.
I was about to lose my patience now.
“Just come to the park, you’ll find me”.
What was I doing, going to see a man I had never met before, and I didn’t even know what he looked like. Great.
I hesitated. But not for long. “Delicious London Accent” I somehow kept hearing myself repeating.
I picked my jacket from a miniature Hampstead Heath hill of clothes, fished my keys from under a stack of film magazines, found my wallet relatively short after, Oyster card, streetmap of London. I took my mobilephone with me (in case he was really creepy) and off I went.

Slightly nervous I approached Golden Square.
But there was no need. He was mostly harmless, and he knew he was right.

I liked him instantly.

5 thoughts to “The Man In The Park”

  1. Yes, well he is gorgeous indeed.
    But I won’t go anywhere near to talking about men with delicious voices in combination with chocolate (on a stick) and eating that or them or whatever, again. I know how that ends up.

    His number ? 42 :-)

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